


Good Night, Good Morning

by ellisly



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: 3+1 Things, Boys In Love, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, Love, M/M, falling asleep together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:29:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26871433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellisly/pseuds/ellisly
Summary: 3 times Baz watches Simon sleep and 1 time Simon wakes up with Baz.A short journey through Simon and Baz's love story filled with sleepy kisses, longing, and love.
Relationships: Penelope Bunce & Simon Snow, Penelope Bunce & Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 2
Kudos: 94





	Good Night, Good Morning

**Author's Note:**

> I love thinking about Simon and Baz being happy, domestic boyfriends especially now that AWTWB's summary has been posted. In honor of the cover reveal, I thought I'd just jot down my imagined scenarios. Hope you enjoy reading them as much as I did writing them :)

1\. Baz

On nearly every occasion, I’d be the first to say that Simon Snow is a horrendous roommate. The imbecile wakes at an ungodly hour every morning, paying no mind to the other occupant in the room as he crashes about. He leaves his clothes and, albeit few, personal items laying about the dorm, often making their way onto my much more organized side of the room. When Simon returns from one of the Mage’s ridiculous and dangerous quests, he’s always in a state of disarray- bloody, bruised, fatigued, and a mere second from collapsing.

However, despite all the countless ways Snow manages to make my life more difficult as a closeted-gay-vampire-magician, the real reason I despise him as a roommate isn’t truly his fault. It’s my own for falling for him, for loving the last person in the world I should.

If I didn’t have to spend virtually all my time outside of class in close quarters with him maybe it wouldn’t be as bad. Crowley, perhaps I wouldn’t have fallen for him in the first place. Yet, everytime the door to our room opens and I glimpse his coppery curls, my chest tightens and for a mere second I let my mind drift to fantasy; I imagine he will smile at me, set his things down, and give me a small peck on the cheek, speaking a simple “Good afternoon, Darling”.

Naturally, I’m quick to bring myself back to reality by throwing a sharp, unnecessarily harsh quip at Snow before he can even fully enter the room (don’t worry, I regret nearly every insult I throw at him. Quite the masochist I am).

The one time I can stomach Simon Snow’s presence as my roommate, the one time I look forward to it, is late at night, when he’s sound asleep. One might say this confession is a bit creepy, a sick habit. To that I say love is a curse and I am a weak, weak man.

At night, when Simon Snow can finally find peace, I can too. In those final hours of the day, I’m too tired to try to hate him, to take my feelings and twist them into something more manageable than the truth. I can finally fall to my emotions and look at Simon and love him.

Tonight, the moonlight is barely shining through the window, but it doesn’t matter- I suppose vampirism has some benefits. He’s facing me, curled in on himself, and his face is drawn up in worry- likely in the midst of a nightmare. He’s still beautiful though, all tawny skin, crushed curls, and soft lips.

What a complete fool I am; I stay well awake into the night just to see him like this, knowing for once he’s safe- from the mage, from the humdrum, from me. Up here, during these hours, it’s like pretending we aren’t each other's endings. It’s like we're just school boys, mates, maybe even proper boyfriends.

A small whimper sounds from across the room and Simon begins to toss about in his sleep. Whatever danger he escapes in the waking world has seemingly found its way into his subconscious. I was wrong- not even now is he free.  
There is nothing more I want to do than grab Snow and hold him tight, to whisper that it’ll all be okay, that I love him. He’s turning and whispering pleas, repeating “No” in a desperate voice. Putting my vampire skills to work, I quietly slip out of bed and cross the room. I find myself standing over him, willing the nightmare to stop.

As Simon continues to moan, I do something I rarely do; I kneel beside the bed and carefully take his hand into mine. I don’t want to wake him (Crowley, I think I might finally off myself if he caught me trying to be soft with him) so I gently begin to brush his knuckles with my thumb. It’s a gesture I remember my Mother doing to me as a child when I became upset or overwhelmed.

“It’s all alright, Love, it’s all going to be alright,” she’d say.

Simon’s thrashing is becoming less violent and his face is easing out of it’s contorted look of fear. He’s calming down but I can’t bring myself to drop his hand. I’ll allow myself one more second, just this time. All I want is for him to be back at peace.

2\. Baz

Hotels in America are truly an oddity. The beds are adorned with stiff, brightly colored drapings that Shepard has assured us aren’t for sleeping with but are actually decoration, the doors open straight into the parking lot, and when we checked in, the much too chipper hostess explained to us that there would be a continental breakfast the next morning.

“What the bloody hell is a continental breakfast?” Penny asked me, her eyes scouring the leaflet the woman had handed us.

Shepard smiled, eager to supply her an answer “It’s like a breakfast buffet,”

“Count me in,” Simon had grinned.

At the moment, it seems as though I’m the last one awake. We’ve since come to the unanimous conclusion that the American is unlikely to kill us and is unwilling to leave us be, thus meaning no more watch parties. Shepard is sprawled across the floor between the beds, Penny has taken up residence on a truly horrendous looking futon, and Simon and I have each been left our own full-sized beds.

I appreciate Penny not pushing us to share a bed this trip; she knows things haven’t exactly been easy for us lately and has been quite kind as not to bring it up. I’m on my side facing Simon, who’s tucked up his arm and is resting his head against it. He looks completely at ease, an expression I haven’t seen much of in the past year but one that has been making its appearance ever so often this trip.

Simon is snoring lightly, his lips slightly parted (mouth-breather), huffing quietly. It’s truly a privilege that I get to see him like this. The past few months have been successions of dark days, days where Simon is silent and glassy-eyed, days where he hardly moves. But it's as though this trip has shined a light on him; his grin is open and unabashed, his skin glowing from the sun, his slightly chapped lips pressing to mine, making me feel the way I always do when I’m with him- finally alive.

Here, he’s been sleeping soundly, safe from nightmares and anxiety. I think I’d trade the world for him to stay this way, to be okay again. Across from me, he wrinkles his nose a bit, pushing his head further into the pillow, and wrapping himself tighter in the sheets. I savor this scene, his ease and peace.

“Goodnight, Simon,” I whisper.

3\. Baz

When Bunce had told me there’d been a Simon emergency this evening, I had dropped all my books and school work and rushed straight to their flat. I had been expecting blood, a wing-malfunction, hell, maybe even a fucking numpty attack. Instead, all that was awaiting me was a frustrated, contemptuous looking Penelope and a shivering mess of a boyfriend.

“I can’t deal with him anymore, Basil!” Penny huffed, slipping on her coat and grabbing a faded Watford duffel bag. “I’ve dealt with his whingeing all day, making sure he didn’t die of fever, making him soup but I’m done! You're the boyfriend, he’s your responsibility now.”

“You could’ve called me earlier, I would’ve-”

“Doesn’t matter now, I’m off to my parent’s for the weekend. Just water him and give him cold medicine every few hours.” And without another word, she stomped out of the flat, slamming the door behind her.

“Bye, Penny” Simon said, weakly. He was wrapped in a blanket, laying on the couch in front of the telly.

I made my ways towards the living room, taking a seat next to Simon’s head. I brushed a few curls from his face, laying my hand against his forehead.

“You’re burning up, Snow”

“I know, Pen says I’ve got the flu or somethin’,” he sniffled.

“I’ll get you some water, okay? Do you need something to eat?” Crowley, I’m growing soft. Mere years ago I’d have been relishing in his discomfort (not really, I’d likely just be yearning to do what I am now).

“‘m okay, not hungry.”  
We spent the next few hours watching some crappy American movie on Netflix, Simon coughing and sniffling while I held his head in my lap.

“Aren’t you afraid of gettin’ sick?” he’d asked, his voice thick with congestion.

I snorted, “Vampire immunity, Snow. One of the perks.”

Eventually, I got Simon up from the couch, leading him to his bedroom. I helped him settle underneath his covers, and gave him a quick kiss on his temple. 

“I’ll be right back with some water and more medicine.”

I’ve since changed into the spare change of pajamas I keep here. Things have been going good between us; After we came back from America and sought out the whole Watford ordeal, Simon and I came to our senses and talked things out. We both started seeing a therapist, practicing communication. It’s not always easy- Simon still has dark days and I can still be a guarded arsehole, but we get through it. He lets me hold him, really be with him, and I confide in him the things I’ve been bottling up for years.

I step back into his room, having gone to refill his glass, and find him fast asleep, snoring away. I smile softly because despite it all, I still love him after all these years.

I set his glass on the bedside table and lean over him, bringing my lips to the moles on his cheek.

“Goodnight, Love,” I whisper softly into his skin.

As I stand up to leave, a hand grabs my arm, halting me. Simon rolls over a bit and looks up at me through stubby lashes with his completely ordinary, completely lovely blue eyes.

“Sleep with me?” He asks softly, questioningly, as if I would ever be able to say no (I’m a lovesick fool, I know).

“Of course.”

I climb in besides him and he turns to curl into me, resting his head beneath my chin and burrowing his nose into my chest. We fit perfectly together like this.

“Love you, Baz” he whispers, trailing off into sleep

I smile once more. “I love you too, Simon.”

+1 Simon

Even though I’ve been out of Watford for years, I still tend to wake up with the sun. I guess some habits die hard.

I never really imagined that someday I would get to wake up in my own bed, in my own flat, with my own cat and kitchen and all the other stuff proper adults have. I certainly never imagined that I would be waking up besides my boyfriend, who lives in the flat with me, who feeds our cat and makes me slightly over-cooked eggs and kisses me senseless. I definitely never thought I would be sharing a room with Baz again.

I think it's safe to say I am very, very happy to have made it this far.

I slowly open my eyes. Early morning light has filled the room and a slight chill has set in as the cool fall air drifts in through the slightly cracked window. I roll over gently, finding myself nose to nose with a still sound-asleep Baz, his arm still resting across my middle

Even in his sleep, Baz looks graceful as ever. His face is beautiful, all sharp angles and high cheekbones catching the early morning sun. His long, dark hair is spread across the pillow, some strands falling across his cheeks. He’s got these thick, dark lashes and all I want at this moment is to kiss them, so I do.

I tuck the strands of hair behind his ear, and softly kiss his eyelids. I make my way down his face, pressing more gentle pecks to his brow, his nose, his cheek. The arm wrapped around my middle tightens, drawing me closer, and I smile.

“Good morning, Darling” I whisper, pulling back.

Baz slowly opens one of his eyes and I can tell he’s trying to hold back a grin. “Simon, what time is it?”

“Dunno, 7ish I suppose”

Baz groans and presses his face back into the pillow, withdrawing his arm to pull the covers over his head. “It’s too early to be awake,” he says, voice muffled.

I chuckle. “Is this your way of saying you’d don’t want me to wake you up with a kiss every morning?”

He pulls the cover down just enough so that one of his eyes peaks out. “You call that a kiss, Snow?”

“Why don’t you show me how it’s done then, Pitch.”

Baz swiftly throws the blanket over my head, drawing me into the dark warmth of the sheets. He wraps his arms around my middle and draws me in once again so that we’re chest to chest. I grin as I take in his look of pure determination on his face, always up for the challenge.

Crowley, I’m the luckiest man alive.

Baz brings his lips to mine, delivering a kiss that's equal cold, morning breath, and love. It should be gross but I couldn’t care less because it's Baz, my fiance, the man I love even when it feels like I can’t do anything else. He’s the boy I fought, the boy I obsessed over, the boy who stayed with me through everything, who saved me, really, in the end. He’s my happy ending and I his.

When we break apart, he’s smiling. “Satisfactory enough of an example for you?”

“Mmm, I may need some review later.” I wink.

“Crowley, Simon,” he rolls his eyes, pulling the cover back down. He stretches and moves to get out of bed. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and make us some breakfast.”

I laugh and step out of bed, walking towards him. “As you wish, so long as you feed the cat.”

He sneers but wraps his hands around my waist once more. “That mongrel? Fat chance.”

I rest my arms on his shoulders, taking one more second to take in his face, to take in this whole scene and remind myself that this really is my life now. I lean my head forward and rest it against his own.

“I love you, Baz.”

“I love you too, Simon Snow.”


End file.
